Master Cuddlecock
by Mrs.Monster
Summary: REPOSTED: Edward applies for a phone line position at a local charity to round out his CV in preparation for his medical school interview, only he's not working with the kind of pussy's he thinks he is. Collab with catonspeed, Round Mound of a Beehound Contest Winner.


**Author's Note: So, I wrote this with catonspeed ages ago (and I mean ages, almost four years, I think.) I cannot remember why it was taken down, but I love it too much not to put it back up. **

**Round Mound of a Beehound Contest: Show Us Yours Official Entry  
Title:** Master Cuddlecock  
**FFN Pen Name:** catonspeed & lacym3 (now Mrs. Monster)  
**Rating:** M  
**Pairing/Grouping:** Edward/Esme & Jasper/Peter/Tanya  
**POV:** Edward  
**Summary:** Edward applies for a phone line position at a local charity to round out his CV in preparation for his medical school interview, only he's not working with the kind of pussy's he thinks he is...

* * *

'_Cuddlecocking - You're either in, or you're out'_

There was even a helpful little diagram conceptualizing this statement with stick men underneath the words.

How odd.

And how was that even possible?

The sign on the door confused Edward. What kind of establishment was this charity running? Then again, office workers always had a tendency towards strange humor in his experience. Mrs. Cope at his old high school, who he often helped out with morning announcements, had all sorts of obscure items littering her desk. That poor woman. It was just bad for efficiency. She'd always been very kind to Edward though, bringing him lunches, inviting him to stay after hours to use any of the resources he needed, spending all that time with him in the library stacks so he could access the special back door of the reserved collection. He would miss their little chats. But Edward had a plan, and it allowed for nothing but complete success, and that meant moving on from high school, and out into the big wide world.

He was going to be a doctor. Save lives. Help those in need. Well… those that could afford his private practice – Aston Martin's don't come cheap after all! And he was ready; his grades were excellent, his attendance record phenomenal, he'd read every research paper out there that would give him the edge, volunteered at Christmas to read to the children in the cancer ward. But apparently that was not enough. Well thanks low budget guidance counselor, thanks for letting him know now, not six years ago, when Edward came to her on the first day of enrolling in High School, telling her of his plans. No. Apparently those things weren't enough. He needed charity hours. Edward might miss out on his place, because someone had hand washed vagrants at the shelter on the weekends, instead of learning how to stitch up a wound using dental floss and a spoon – because sometimes, stuck at 40,000 ft in first class, that's all you have! It was simply absurd! So here he was, at his last chance, perplexed by toilet humor, instead of praying for success at the biggest moment of his life.

Edward raised his hand and knocked firmly and sharply on the door. He was as prompt as always. Edward was a stickler for things like that; you could set your watch by him.

It swung quickly open. A stressed looking man popped out at him like a jack in the box. His face was haggard and tired, eyes smudged with dark rings from a clear lack of sleep. The lapels of his once white shirt were limp and dirty from excessive pulling and fondling. Poor fellow. This is why Edward was here. To help those in need.

"Edward Masen?"

The man's eyes were frantic with hope, blazing cerulean blue for a moment before returning to dull, lifeless pools of grey.

"Yes, that's me. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I'm most eager to get to work here."

As the man's body relaxed, the relief was almost audible in the hushed hallway.

"I'm Richard Flange. But you can call me Dick. Everybody does. I'm so glad you're here! Come in, come in. We're a few men short, so you really couldn't have come at a better time. We're quite desperate for newcomers!"

"Everything you need is in here" Dick handed Edward a thick plastic binder, before he gestured him further info the office space "I remember from your phone message that you don't have any experience in this area?" Edward nodded his head and grasped the binder tightly in his hands. He really needed those hours, and hoped his lack of experience wouldn't discount him.

Dick nodded back. Hell, he was desperate, and the kid gave amazing phone, second to none! This could go either way. And they were in a bind tighter than a clown's pocket. It had been a while since they had inducted any new operators, and Dick was more nervous than a virgin on prom night – some people didn't respond well.

"We deal with Urban Cougars, and the Seattle chapter is particularly dangerous species… We don't know if it's the lack of natural light, but they're like freaking vampires Edward! They're deadly when provoked, but if you treat them with respect, they're as regular as folks like you or me."

Edward was shocked. He didn't realize there were such dangerous creatures living in the city. He'd only ever seen them in the zoo. Surely animal control had been notified? This couldn't be safe. This was perfect though, he would be able to talk about his work in saving endangered creatures – that would have the interviewer eating out the palm of his hand tomorrow. Time to pull out some knowledge to dazzle Dick with.

"That's good. I love watching Big Cats on Animal Planet, that show is so informative. I feel a particular affinity to the mountain lions, they are such majestic creatures. If I could be an animal, that's what I would pick.

I'll be working here in the office though, right? I won't be out in the field, because if I am, I'm going to need to see documentation that these animals are fully vaccinated. I can't possibly work with these creatures if there is even the slightest possibility of infection! And what about my fingers"

"Your-Your fingers?" Dick asked utterly confused.

"Yes, my fingers. What if one of these creatures got close enough to injure one of my amazingly dexterous fingers? It would destroy my entire career as a surgeon! There should be regulations within Wild Life charity organizations that should prevent things like this. As a matter of fact I think I'm going to write a letter of complaint to my congressman-"

Dick cut across Edward's rant, realizing that the young man had misunderstood the situation. Here we go thought Dick, he'd just have to drive right on in there, without as much preparation as he'd like, and hope Edward didn't bolt and run.

"No Edward. _Urban Cougars_. They are a sophisticated species of female who seek the pleasure of younger males. She avoids the entanglements of a 'relationship', in favor of the freedom of the hunt"

Ok. Not animals.

Women?

Dick continued…

"Our help line allows them to get their release in the comfort of their own home, at a safe distance. They sign up to our service, and we provide them with a kit of essential items, and the promise to meet their needs, 24/7/365. And that's where you come in Edward, we need you to stimulate them vocally, to help them meet their needs. You know…"Dick made a rather graphic gesture with him hands "get them off. I knew as soon as I heard your voice on our answer machine you'd be perfect"

Dick could see he was losing Edward, who was edging slowly towards the door; he'd have to pull out something special here.

"Edward. These women need our help" Dick was digging deep, his hands ran through his thinning hair in desperation, tearing at the remaining strands, before meeting Edward's gaze with glassy red rimmed eyes. He glanced down again at the CV in his hands, and one of Edward's names of reference caught his attention. His beady eyes squinted at it before shooting up to meet Edward's.

"What would Jesus do Edward?"

Gosh darn it! Dick was right! It's like Brother Newton at the church group says, 'Thy rod and thy staff they comfort me', Psalm 23. Although Edward never could understand why he always grabbed a hold of his penis after saying that. Strange but devout man. The truth in those words had never been more apparent though, he needed to guide and lead them. If I don't help them, they'll only be out on the streets! Filth starved cougars prowling on the unsuspecting innocents. This was a public service. Also, I _really_ need the charity credits for my college interview tomorrow... and it's this or the soup kitchen...

A shudder ran through his body at the thought of being within breathing range of those uncouth, uncultured miscreants. It made Edward die a little, deep down inside. Edward gave money to _those_ charities. That way they'd never have to be within touching distance of his Micah Cohen '_Shades of Griege_' pea coat. That fabric just did not dry clean well, _at all_. He'd spilled cream on the last one, and that had just left the most horrendous white mark in the most inopportune of places.

God will understand. By gosh, he might even praise me for this - saving the faithful and all. And Edward would finally be able to take Father Carlisle up on that opportunity to hear confessions after his Sunday sermons. That poor man looks so disappointed every time he said he couldn't say behind with him because he was still pure. Father Carlisle really does take his work very seriously. The other boys were often in tears whenever they left - he must have all kinds of spiritual breakthroughs with them in that cozy little office, they were always crying out the good lord's name.

"This folder contains examples of the persona's our assistants use and a list of adjectives for you. These women are very particular. It's partly what makes them so dangerous... they crave outside the 'norm' - that just doesn't do it for them anymore. Treat it as your bible! Follow its teachings and gospel words, and you'll do fine."

Well Edward didn't think the good lord had this in his the draft of the bible... Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, what does the cover say again... _Round Mound 101_. But, OK. He understood that. He needed to succeed at this, so he'd follow the _good book_.

Dick turned the front cover and pointed to a separate grouping of bold faced words at the bottom of the page. They were fenced off in thick, jagged red lines. The words were penned in with no hope of escape.

"These." He jabbed with a raw fingernail chewed down to the quick "These are NOT. TO. BE. USED. _EVER. _"

Edward glanced down at the first word on the list "So I can't say cu-" Dick smothered Edward's mouth shut, tighter than a gully hole. The backs of his lips rammed up against his teeth, as the sharp incisors threaten to cut into the soft fleshy mounds.

"NEVER. They see it as a sign of disrespect. A lack of creativity. _Oh god _! You don't want to know what happened to the last guy that used one of the words on that list... Poor Emmett. They ate his liver with some fava beans and a nice Chianti. He had such promise! He looked like he'd been mauled by a bear afterwards - we still don't know how they found him... He's still waiting for a transplant. Do you know how difficult it is to get a donor peen?"

Dick shuddered at the memory.

"But you seem like a bright young man, I'm sure you'll do just fine" Dick punctuated each word by slapping Edward on the back "I'll just leave you to go over the book for a while, and then we'll see about getting you set up. Let me know if you need anything"

Edward smiled beatifically at Dick. He'd never done '_just fine_' at anything. He would stand for nothing but total success, so sat down at an empty booth to learn his new craft.

It took seven pages for Edward to come to the conclusion that this manual was completely ridiculous. He'd taken his share of anatomy courses in preparation for medical school and the techniques described in here were simply ineffective. If these cougars were to be saved they need clear instructing. Edward scanned the page, looking for the perfect persona.

_Pilot._ Well, he knew nothing about planes, so that was out.

_Race car driver_. Well, Edward does love his Volvo, but didn't think he could ever taint it with this.

_Mexican apple thief_. What in the world was that about! Edward leaned in closer at the words scrawled on the page.

_The scene: You're a Mexican apple thief. She runs the cider house, she catches you hiding behind the stone mill, and chases you into the tasting room (there may or may not be crow in there). You're all alone and you don't speak a word of English, but teach her more about hard cider than she ever learned from her fermenting exams and your passion is so loud that they can hear it all the way in the distillery..._

Well, stealing is just wrong! He crossed that one off too, thank you very much.

_Dominant._

Edward had never come across the word in this context before. He'd been dominant in his test scores in class, dominant in his church group efforts, dominant in his quest for knowledge... but this clearly had other connotations. Intrigued, he read on.

_Dominance and submission (also known as D&s, Ds or D/s) is a set of behaviors, customs and rituals involving the giving by one individual to another individual of dominance over them in an erotic episode or as a lifestyle arrangement._

_Physical contact is not a necessity, and it can even be conducted anonymously over the telephone, email or other messaging system. In other cases, it can be intensely physical, sometimes traversing into sadomasochism. In D/s, both parties take pleasure or erotic enjoyment from either dominating or being dominated. Those who take the superior position are called dominants, doms (male) or dommes (female), while those who take the subordinate position are called submissives or subs (male or female)._

Curious, Edward pulled out his iPhone and Wiki'd some of the items. He was intrigued, and grew a little warm and heated at some of the images that popped up, particularly the ones with the people dressed up in PVC cat outfits. Something he'd have to bring up with Dr. Swan at his next therapy session.

All in all, it seemed very feasible. And will allow me to give very clear and logical instructions. It's really just like that summer, at band camp, when he had to drill the girls drum line. Yes, this persona will do nicely.

Satisfied with his choice, Edward went back to the list of adjectives, trying to get comfortable with the way they rolled around on his tongue, the taste of them.

Looking down the list of acceptable adjectives inside the front cover of the book, Edward was sincerely glad that his photographic mind allowed him to commit these to memory.

Edward was still reading he felt a small _splat_ on his upper back. He glanced over his shoulder but didn't see anything, so he turned his attention back to the page in front of him.

Edward was astounded at the creativity here, but somewhat confused at number 99. _Harry Rednapp's eyelid?_ How does that even work? He used the red pen to cross a line through that one.

_Splat!_ What on earth? Edward looks over his shoulder again, only to spot a large, white blob sliding down the material covering his left shoulder blade. Is that? Edward shrieked and jumped up from his chair, flinging his coat off as if it were on fire. The coat flew across the room and landed right in Dick's face.

Uproarious laughter erupted from behind Edward, and he spun around to find two men slumped back in their chairs howling. Both men were blonde, one considerably taller than the other, and they were both dressed without a shred of style. They got up and made their way over to Edward, one stopped on the way to throw away a container of yogurt.

"You must be the new guy," the taller man said.

"Yes," Edward replied curtly.

The shorter man joined the conversation, "I'm Peter, and this unwashed miscreant is Jasper," he said, a slight tremor of humor coloring his tone. Was he mocking Edward? Surely not.

"Edward. Edward Masen" he returned out of courtesy.

"Well Edward. Edward Masen. As the resident Fantasy Artistes we wanted to come over and introduce ourselves, so, hello," Jasper said, and then returned to his chair.

Peter clapped a hand on Edward's shoulder, "Hey, man, sorry about your coat, you know it was only yogurt, right?" he asked with a chuckle before joining Jasper at their desks. Edward shook his head in disgust and sank back down in his chair, mentally calculating what the dry cleaning bill would be this time.

Primitive, uncultured curs.

"Everything ok here?" Dick asked, and clapped Edward on the back.

"Yes. I believe I'll be _just fine_"

"Excellent. You know it might be useful if you listen in on one of our other operators' calls, just so you can get a feel for everything. Why don't you have a wander around the room and listen in"

Standing from his chair, Edward looked around the room at the other operators. The only ones who seemed to be busy at the moment were the two jokesters, Jasper and Peter. Great. Stuffing his hands in his pockets, Edward grudgingly made his way over to their area. Peter, holding the telephone, covered the mouth piece and grinned at Edward.

"Come to learn from the Masters, huh?"

Edward ignored his question, and stood next to the desk they were both seated behind, hunching his shoulders, hands still in his pockets. Edward made a jerky motion with his head, indicating they should continue. Peter and Jasper both smirked, and Peter hit a button on the phone before replacing the receiver.

They both leaned closer to the phone, and Edward could hear a husky, feminine, voice coming from the speaker.

"Now, boys you know I don't like to be kept waiting," the voice chastised.

"We're sorry Tanya," they said at the same time.

"Excuse me? What did you address me as?" the female voice said, this time coming across harsher.

Pressing their lips together in an attempt to hold in laughter, they said, "We're sorry, Ms. Tanya of Cock Control."

"That's better boys," she purred, "Tonight I demand to be worshiped, every part of my body. You boys are under my control, and will do as I say, or you will be severely punished, is that clear?"

"Yes Ms. Tanya," they chorused.

"Never forget boys," she said, slight menace coloring her tone, "I'm the one who led the others to poor dear Emmett. He didn't like to follow the rules either." All three of the men grimaced, hands instinctively going to their groins in reassurance.

"Yes, Ms. Tanya," they said again.

"You may begin boys."

"Slowly remove all of your clothing," Jasper began, "imagine that I'm removing your lacy black bra, and that Peter is slipping off your matching thong with his teeth." There was a rustle of fabric on the other line, and Tanya's breathing was growing heavier by the second.

"Now, Ms. Tanya, I'm trailing my fingers across your full breasts, circling the nipples with my fingertips. Does that feel good, Ms. Tanya?" Peter said.

"Yes, yes boys, keep going," she moaned, and I could only assume that she was acting out Peter's words.

"Meanwhile, I'm sliding my hands down your stomach to your tight meat wallet," Jasper said. Meat wallet? Oh, yes that was on the list. "Slowly push two fingers inside your cock dock, and hold them still."

"Keep teasing your nipple with the other hand, imagine that they're my fingers tormenting your sensitive flesh," Peter instructed.

"Begin to pump your fingers in and out of your spunk receptacle, do you like that Ms. Tanya?" Jasper asked.

"Oh, yes," she said, completely breathless now.

"Move your fingers from your nipple down to your clit, and massage it with your index finger," Peter told her. Incoherent moans were all that you could hear from the other line now, and Edward could only imagine what was happening. Not that he had personal knowledge of such acts. Of course not, he was still pure.

"Imagine that it's our fingers moving in rhythm, in and out and around your cock holster," Jasper instructed.

"Now stop and get the dildo that you keep in your night stand," Peter said.

"Which one?" she asked breathlessly

"The sparkle peen," Peter said without hesitation. The what? What the hell was a sparkle peen? Edward heard sheets rustling and a drawer open and close on the other line, and then _Ms._ Tanya was back.

"I have to say boys, you are doing very well tonight," she said, "I'm usually the one leading our little nightly conversations; you're handling the change wonderfully."

"Thank you, Ms. Tanya," they replied in unison.

"Lie back down on the bed," Jasper instructed, "and slide the sparkle peen deep inside of your spasm chasm, imagine that it's my big dick filling your chuff box" There was a long moan on the other end of the line, and Edward assumed that she complied.

"Lick your fingers," Peter told her, "and slide them across your clit pretending it's my tongue. Imagine that I'm eating your fallulah while Jasper is fucking your meat napkin with his cock."

"Pump faster," Jasper said, "Fuck yourself hard, envision that it's me pounding your sideways monkey mouth into oblivion." Her cry's were becoming longer and louder, and then she let out an earsplitting scream before falling silent. What just happened? Why would she scream like that? Was there a break in at her home? Was she attacked?

Just as Edward was about voice her concerns, she came back on the line.

"Very good boys," she said "Be prepared tomorrow night. Tomorrow night, I take my control back."

"Yes, Ms. Tanya," they replied, then Peter hit a button on the phone and the connection was severed. They both swiveled in their chairs, turning to look at me.

Edward's mouth had fallen open at some point during the conversation, and he was sure that he looked like a complete buffoon standing there.

"Well, what do you think?" Jasper asked, grinning at Edward's expression. He forced his mouth closed, and attempted to smile at them, reassuring them that he could and would do this with his usual perfection, but all that came out was a grimace. Edward returned to his desk and practically fell into his chair.

Could I possibly do this? He thought to himself. Wait a minute. I'm Edward Masen. Of course I can do this, I must do this for the good of the community, for the children!

A red strobe light was suddenly flashing on the ceiling above his desk.

The room fell silent.

A kitten whimpered in the corner. Where on earth did that come from? Edward hoped they had the appropriate license to keep a kitty on the premises.

Edward reached for the phone and a collective breath was drawn in. How strange.

"Welcome to the Round Mound hotline. How may I be of service to you today ma'am?"

"You can help _service _me alright. Call me Mrs C. What's your name handsome?"

"Cuddlecock"

Oh no! That silly sign has stuck in his head! But Edward couldn't give her his real name! What if it got back to his mother? The ladies of the church group would never understand. Edward would never be able to perform on the organ there again. No, that would not do - organ practice was vital to his dexterity. These future surgeon hands needed frequent, extensive, and vigorous workouts. Edward relaxed in the chair, and gathered his character, feeling the persona slip over him like a kangaroos pouch.

"Master Cuddlecock to you Mrs C.

Let me start by warning you that from our very first session I WILL own not only your flesh lane but also your body, your mind, and your soul. Now that you have been warned all is fair for me to do what is needed to take control of your semen sleeve, to make it mine, to own you. I hope you like to be teased unmercifully, to be brought to the edge time and time again just to be told no over and over.

Can you handle getting so close that you are about to explode and then hearing me tell you to stop, that is all for the day? I can be very sensual and caring but I can also be extremely strict and demanding. One thing for sure, I am always in control, and there will be punishment when my orders are not followed to the letter."

Edward sat and waited for a response, and detected a light panting on the other end of the phone.

"Yes Master…" A feathery voice breathed back.

Apparently he'd subdued the cougar. Now he just needed to tame her.

"Make no mistake; I'll make it very difficult for you. First, I want you in a straight backed chair, naked, sitting on your hands. Do you understand? I don't ever want to have to repeat myself"

"Yes"

There was a scraping sound in the background, followed by a subtle sequence of clicks that signaled the lowering of a zipper.

"Yes what?"

Those drum line girls had been just as difficult to drill at first too. He hadn't stopped until they were all beating in sequence either.

"I'm waiting Mrs C…"

"Yes, _Master_. It won't happen again"

"It has better not. If you follow my direction and dictation, I will have you experiencing sensations your mimsy has never felt before. Disobey me, and you won't have your release, and you sound like you need your release Mrs C. I can practically smell you over the phone"

A guttural gasp whispered down the line to Edward. He was reeling her in. And he was feeling a little warm. Had they turned up the heating in here? Adjusting the lapels on his collar, he thought over his medical text books, constructing a methodical approach. He could put all his research to use. Perhaps not for the purpose it was originally intended, but he was saving someone's life, somewhere – they just didn't know it.

"Use one hand to separate and hold apart your labia, fully exposing your joy button. Dip the index finger from your other hand in your furry cup, and gently tap your clitoris. Are you doing this? Can you feel yourself getting ready for me?"

"Yes, yes, yes!" Stuttered staccato from the other end of the phone line. "Please sir, can I have some more Sir?"

"You may add a finger with your other hand Mrs C. Only one. And vary the speed and intensity on your joy button. I'm going to look after you if you're a good girl"

The light breathing was moving to panting. Edward could visualize the moisture dripping down from the gateway to her guts, preparing her front bottom for him.

"You may add another finger Mrs C."

He leaned forward in his chair, adjusting his trousers to relieve the strain. These cubicles really were very small and tight.

"Thank you Sir. You feel so good…"

Edward could hear the rhythmic motions of her hand as it passed over her spasm chasm. She should be nicely dilated now, and ready for more.

"I want you to remove the hand from your joy button now, and move it up to circle and pinch at your nipples Mrs C"

She whimpered in protest, but didn't vocalize it Edward noted. She was learning.

"Hard Mrs C. Maximum stimulation requires an interaction of pain and pleasure. It will be worth it"

Edward could visualize her fingertips massaging and clenching at her nipples, extend and raised by the stimulation her body was currently undergoing. The increased blood flow would have turned them a dark pink, which would have only been darkened further by the pinching and rolling he had directed her to do.

"Do you have your kit near you Mrs C?"

Edward glanced at the picture in the folder that cataloged the items she would have available at the other end.

"Yes Master Cuddlecock"

Hmmm… eeny meeny miny mo, in which hole should one of you go? Ah… that one will do adequately.

"I want you to select item number three Mrs C. Place it at your poking hole and wait for my signal"

Edward could hear the sound of a box opening and closing. The manual he had read had specified the items he would find in there. And this would do adequately to stimulate all the placed inside her to achieve maximum sensory efficiency and impact.

"Do you have Aro in your hand?"

"Yes…" The strain was evident in her voice. She was ready.

"Put him in Mrs C. Hard and fast. I would not hold back with you. I would ride your hairy bicycle stand thoroughly"

Edward could hear the sounds of her exertion clearly through the line, and could practically visualize the flushing of the blush across her cheeks, and the sheen of sweat glittering over her naked form. He hoped the chair she was seated on had a cover, or could be washed down.

"Oh god! Jesus! _Fuck_! I'm coming!"

I have bought her closer to God. Clearly a sign that his work was appreciated by the almighty.

A series of long drawn out mewls sounded down the phone. That was the noise Tanya had made with those two miscreants. Maybe it was an urban cougar thing. He'd have to Google it later.

"Until next time Mrs C. Remember, I take nothing less than complete and total submission. Your poonani is mine, and mine to do with as I please. You are not to touch it until we speak again"

Edward had every intention of coming back. If he'd helped this cougar find god, imagine all the work he could do here!

"Thank you Master Cuddlecock"

"You may put the phone down Mrs C"

A click signaled the end of the call.

Well. That was easy. I think I'll take my ten now. Edward noticed his pencils on his desk had been knocked out of line during the process of call, and carefully straightened them before turning in his chair, and getting up to leave.

He had to stop though.

All the chairs in the office had been dragged into a circle around his station, and the entire call center sat mouths wide open, gaping at him in wonder. Jasper and Peter stood to the side, appraising him with new eyes. He was a little stiff, but they knew they could break him in, become a threesome maybe. The ladies loved that shit, and they weren't adverse to a little backdoor action on a cold night.

Unaware of their devious delinquent ideas, Edward drew his coat around him, and stepped out into the hallway, in search of a good dry cleaner that would be able to attend to his poor coat while he completed his shift.

Yes, he'd do just fine here.

* * *

**The next day…**

Edward sat waiting outside the room his medical school interview would be taking place in. It had been rumored that the head of the school would be conducting the interview themselves this year, which would be a great honor.

While the person before was finishing up, he sat and waited, and surveyed the other people waiting near him.

Losers.

The lot of them.

He'd beat several in local mathlete and science club meets, and the others he'd done a bit of social reconnaissance on, and were no threat. Except Jane Volturi, who had been glaring at Edward since she'd arrived. Ha! Edward had it all, and the addition of those charity hours made him an unstoppable force. She could eat his McMuff!

Edward chuckled at his internal joke, and was still smiling as he was called up.

Striding assertively into the room, Edward put out his hand and firmly and confidently announced his name to the stunning elegant older woman in front of him.

"Edward Masen. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance..."

Her calm regal features froze, and she gasped lightly, her hand quickly reaching up to the edge of her blouse, her fingers running back and forth over her exposed collar bones. Edward hoped she had a jacket somewhere, it's quite chilly today.

"_Esme_..."

Her tiny slender fingers reached out to wrap around Edward's outstretched hand and caressed the skin there softly, reverently.

They're so friendly here! Edward knew this would be a good fit.

"But you can call me Mrs C.

_Master Cuddlecock_.

I think I have an opening here for you..."

*gulp*

Edward could see her legs subtly rubbing together under the silky layers of her skirt. Yesterday's call flooded back through his mind, every word touching feather light and fiery on his skin.

At her words Edward could feel the persona slip over his body like a well fitting wizard's sleeve.

I _am _Master Cuddlecock.

He is _I _.

We are _one _.

And she had not listened to his dictation. Such a shame.

"What have I told you Mrs C. You are not to touch the whisker biscuit until I give you permission. Have you been a bad girl? You have, haven't you? I can smell it."

Edward strolled up to the desk and ran his hand over the soft padded tooled leather top, before turning back to her. His skin crackled electric where the two met.

"Now I will have to work on a punishment for you. Bend over the desk and stay there until I can think of something suitable. You've disobeyed my instructions, and I was _very_ clear and _precise _in them, was I not?"

She whimpered as Edward picked up a wooden ruler nestled in her pen pot, and ran it back and forth in his palm, slapping the skin there every few strokes.

Oh well. I do it for the kids, so they don't have to.

It's what Jesus would do.


End file.
